


Unexpected Consequences

by sbdrag



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, dorian chests at chess but cullen cheats at expressions, not much else to say really, varric is a shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4586193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbdrag/pseuds/sbdrag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian asks Cullen to teach him how to fight.</p>
<p>He doesn't actually need the lessons, but Cullen doesn't need to know that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Consequences

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLadyMagician](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyMagician/gifts).



> Written based off a prompt on the cullrianprompts tumblr. _"Okay, so I just want someone to write either Dorian or Cullen, I don't care which one, ask the other to help them with a skill they already know instead and out under the pretense of spending time with them. So like Cullen asks Dorian to teach him how to play chess or Dorian asks Cullen how to properly ride a horse or SOMETHING. I'm down for anything. And of course, it gets found out."_
> 
> (Also, this prompt was made by TheLadyMagician, who has glorious Cullrian fics of her own that you should read if you haven't already.)

“You want me to teach you how to fight?”

Cullen’s tone was only slightly incredulous. The fact that his brows were nearing his hairline gave much better insight to what he thought of the idea. Dorian effected a sigh, leaning forward to make his move before settling back in his chair. It was a crisp day, bright but cold, and it cut the Altus right to the bone. Even wearing proper clothes that completely covered him, he still felt too chilled for comfort. And yet here he was, outside and playing chess with a Southern Chantry boy. Granted, a gorgeous Southern Chantry boy, but none the less.

“Well, you see, my dear Commander,” Dorian started. Cullen was studying the board, but rolled his eyes at the slight flirting. “I simply never had much reason to learn real battle skills. Our Templars… well, they can’t stop magic.”

“They… what?” Cullen asked, brows furrowing. Finally, he made a move. The Commander had an infuriating way of leaning forward and watching the board intently. It made it extremely difficult to cheat.

“They’re glorified thugs, mostly,” Dorian said with a shrug. He made a casual move, but kept his hand resting on the piece, as if contemplating whether or not he really wanted to there or not. Really, he was waiting to see if he could make the Commander look up so he could move one of his pieces with a bit of sleight of hand. “No magic nullifying powers whatsoever. Rather took me off guard the first time it happened down here.”

Which was, of course, an understatement. Templar silence was completely different from a magic dispelling. It was like part of him had been suddenly cut off. He’d actually been terrified, thinking that they had somehow found a way to make him Tranquil. Nevermind that his terror was all the evidence to the contrary. It was only Adaar’s quick maneuvering that had kept him from being run through. Thank the Maker the woman was so handy with her behemoth of a sword.

“Then what’s the point of them? Other than appearances,” Cullen asked, looking up. Dorian took the distraction to perform his little trick, ultimately moving a different piece than the one he’d made a move with. He batted his eyes, looking up at the Commander.

“You forget, dear man, that appearance is everything in Tevinter,” he said. He didn’t bother to point out that it was the same in Orlais, and Antiva, even in Fereldan. The rules simply changed with the locale. Cullen snorted, shaking his head slightly. He looked at the board, squinting slightly. They both knew Dorian cheated, but the Commander had never actually caught him in the act. Or, if he had, he hadn’t let it show. “Though I suppose it might not give the best of appearances here, either. The Commander of the Inquisition giving the evil Tevinter Magister fighting lessons. Forget it, just a whimsy of mine.”

“No, it’s a good idea,” Cullen said, making his move with a smirk. Despite Dorian’s cheating (or perhaps in spite of) this move put Dorian’s king in more danger than it had been before. “The Inquisitor has taken quite the shine to you. With how often you accompany her, it won’t be long before you face Templars again.”

Dorian chuckled. He wasn’t being entirely honest, it was true. He was actually completely proficient in the quarterstaff thanks to a friend. He’d simply been caught so completely off guard the first time that he’d froze in panic. Not that he couldn’t stand to learn more, but he could have asked Adaar for that. Fasta vass, he could have asked Bull for that.

“You are, of course, right,” the Altus said, making a move that would force Cullen to sacrifice his rook or his bishop. It was only a delaying tactic, but he had few other options. “But don’t trouble yourself. There are enough rumors about us from playing chess already. I’ll ask the Iron Bull.”

“No,” Cullen said, a little too quickly. The man cleared his throat, blushing in evident surprise. Dorian arched a brow, offering the Commander his most lascivious smile.

“Commander! Could it be that you’re jealous at the very thought of me spending time with another man?” he asked. When the man’s blush started to deepen, he simply had to go on. “Together, grunting in exertion, a sheen of sweat across our bare chests?”

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen said, covering his eyes with his hand. Dorian leaned forward and quickly rearranged two pieces before he recovered, settling back. “That’s most certainly not what I meant. And why would you be bare chested? You’re constantly complaining about the cold.”

“Well I never said we’d be outside,” Dorian said, winking as the Commander peeked at him through his fingers. Cullen shook his head, letting his hand drop. Then he seemed to have an idea, as he studied the board.

“What I meant,” he said, carefully considering the game. “Was that it is my responsibility to ensure everyone is properly trained. That includes you. And if you’re worried about how it will look, I actually think I have a solution to that.”

“Oh?” Dorian asked, leaning forward with interest. His eyes were bright. “Have you found some hidden nook, Commander? A secluded alcove?”

“Something like that,” Cullen said, finally making a move. He smiled as Dorian scowled, but the Altus was quick to recover. Cullen may have the tactical advantage of the board, but the Altus was a master of the battlefield of turn of phrase.

“And what, pray tell, were you doing that you sought out such a place?” he asked, looking up at the man. “Or perhaps the better question would be who were you doing?”

The blush that went straight to the tips of the Commander’s ears was very rewarding. And, if Dorian cared to admit it, endearing. Grown men did not have a right to be so charming and adorable.

“Maybe it was who I was thinking of doing,” the man returned defiantly, moving a piece with a defiant clack after Dorian’s move. The Altus arched a brow at the brash statement.

“Oh ho, Commander,” Dorian teased. “Aren’t Templar’s supposed to chaste?”

“I’m not a Templar anymore,” the Commander said, with a smirk. Dorian blinked. If this weren’t Cullen, he’d say the man had just flirted back with him. But this was Cullen, who had only ever seemed to have an interest in the fairer sex, and certainly not Tevinter mages. Even pariahs. Dorian coughed. 

“Well then,” he said, not as smoothly as he would have liked. “If your would be lover doesn’t mind us using this hidden nest you’ve discovered to get damp and sweaty in less pleasant ways, do go on, by all means.”

And there was that endearing blush again, accompanied by a small, soft smile. Dorian almost caught his breath at the expression. It was just so open and warm. Everything he’d hoped for in a lover some day; a lover that actually put the love in making love. He looked down, at the chess board. Whoever had caught the Commander’s eye, she was a very lucky woman. 

Cullen gave him directions to the place; they were relatively simple, though he admitted he still would have missed the place if he hadn’t known it was there. It was a large, circular room of unclear purpose. There were, in fact, empty alcoves around the perimeter of the wall. A library, perhaps, judging by the rotting bookshelves. There would be space for a proper collection, Dorian thought, if they could get the shelving fixed. Or, rather, replaced. Not that that would be possible, if they wanted the place to remain hidden, but still.

These were all secondary thoughts, however, because Dorian’s brain had stopped working for the first few moments of entering the room.

Cullen was working with a quarterstaff, just warming up really. That wasn’t what had given Dorian pause. The fact that he was doing it in only a plain pair of breeches and a thin shirt had caught the Altus rather off-guard. However, he managed to compose himself before the Commander noticed his presence. He carefully draped himself against the wall.

“My, my,” he called out, fanning himself as he caught the other man’s attention. “How ever am I to learn with such a distraction?”

Cullen blushed, of course. It really was sweet. Dorian had thought it would get boring, when it was so easy, but instead it was one of his favorite past times. Sometimes he was purposefully more flirtatious in the Commander’s presence, just to see if he could make the man’s ears turn pink. 

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” the man himself said, gesturing Dorian over. The Altus moved a sinuously as possible, which made the Commander roll his eyes. Dorian grinned at him. “Shall we start then?”

“As you wish, ser,” Dorian quipped. Cullen arched a brow.

“Ser, is it?” he asked, getting into a standard pose. He motioned that Dorian should copy him, and so the mage did. 

“Would you rather I called you Commander?” Dorian asked, using his best bedroom voice on the word. Ah, if he hadn’t grown tired of the blush by now, he certainly never would. The Commander cleared his throat.

“Just Cullen is fine,” he said, softly. Dorian chuckled.

“Very well, Cullen,” he said. It didn’t seem to stop the man’s blush, although Dorian hadn't added any special intonation to the man’s name. He stocked it away for later thought, as Cullen started training in earnest. 

It was hard work. Dorian almost regretted having asked, if it weren’t for one thing. He was overdoing his incompetence, he knew, but it meant that Cullen would touch him. A guiding hand on his grip, a slight touch on his knee to widen his stance, a hand help him relax his shoulders. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that the Commander was enjoying touching him as much as Dorian was enjoying being touched. No matter how innocuous those touches may be. It almost made the ache in Dorian’s muscles worth it. Almost.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen remarked at one point, walking around to stand behind Dorian. They were both damp with sweat and panting, and Dorian’s form was being to flag for real at this point. He was about to snap at the man, before Cullen’s arms slid over his own, guiding his stance. “It’s like this, this hand a little higher…”

“You know,” Dorian said, letting the Commander fuss at his grip. “I hope you don’t make a habit of putting yourself in such a compromising position, Cullen. If the person you hope to woo were to walk in now, they might get the wrong idea.”

“They won’t,” Cullen said, close enough that Dorian could feel breath on his ear. He suppressed a shudder. 

“Won’t what? Walk in, or get the wrong idea?” the Altus quipped. Cullen was quiet for a moment.

“They won’t walk in,” he said. Dorian could feel his arched brow. “And I’m starting to think they already have the wrong idea.”

“And why is that, dear man?” Dorian asked. The Altus was answered by a surprisingly gentle hand on his hip, pulling him back against the Commander. 

“Because he’s already here,” Cullen said. Dorian flinched and dropped his weapon in surprise. The Commander was unmistakably aroused, which made Dorian wonder how he’d missed it when the man was in front of him. The Altus felt heat creep up his face, and tried to clear the sudden lump in his throat.

“Oh,” he said. Very smooth, he thought. “I… hm.”

Cullen laughed, head falling against Dorian’s shoulder. Dorian found he quite liked the sound, and the way Cullen’s free hand threaded their fingers together before wrapping around his chest. 

“I’ve made you speechless,” he said. Dorian felt a little indignant at that. He could hear the smirk in the Commander’s voice. He disentangled them, turning, a retort on the tip of his tongue. 

A retort which was cut short by a soft, chaste kiss. A warm hand on his cheek, only a moment, and the Commander pulled away. Cullen was blushing, damn the man, and smirking. And he rubbed the back of his neck, not quite meeting Dorian’s eyes. And it was terribly unfair, Dorian thought, because looking both smug and bashful had to be cheating somehow. 

“Sorry if I’ve-” Cullen was cut short by Dorian pulling him forward with both hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him into kiss. The Commander practically squeaked in surprise, which Dorian counted as a victory as one of his hands moved to cup the back of the man’s neck. He felt a muscular arm wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as Cullen daringly deepened the kiss. Dorian let him with an appreciative hum, wrapping both arms around the man’s shoulders. Cullen’s freehand cupped his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. 

They broke away when they needed air, both looking at each other with the same slightly dazed expression. Dorian blamed it on the lack of oxygen. It was certainly not because of one kiss. As divine as the kiss may or may not have been. And then Cullen smiled, blushing and slightly sheepish.

“Festis bei umo canavarum,” Dorian said softly, and meant it. They were interrupted from saying any more by the sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway. 

“Curly! I didn’t know you had it in you!” Varric said, gesturing widely with his hands and an even wider grin. Cullen groaned, hiding his face against Dorian’s shoulder. 

“Maker’s breath,” he said, muffled. Dorian snorted, patting his back as he slowly pulled away. He was consoled by the fact that Cullen seemed as loath to do so as he did. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to watch Sparkler pretend he doesn’t know how to kick your ass with that staff,” Varric said. Dorian looked casually away from Cullen’s accusing look. Varric’s shit eating grin was not helping. “Glad I waited for the rest of the show. An ex-Templar and a Tevinter mage? Now there’s a story.”

“For the love of Andraste, please tell me you’re joking,” Cullen said, pleading with his eyes. Varric laughed. 

“I could,” he said. “But I told Aveline the same thing, just so you know.”

Cullen groaned again, burying his head in his hands. Dorian smiled crossing his arms.

“Just try to do me justice,” he said. “I know words could never truly convey how dashing and devastatingly handsome I am, but I’m sure you can capture the general effect.”

“I’ll do what I can, Sparkler,” Varric said, chuckling. He turned, waving. “I’ll let you guys get back to your fun. Forget I was ever here.”

“I wish I could,” Cullen said, earning another laugh from the retreating dwarf. It wasn’t until after the door closed that he let his hands drop. And then turned to glare at Dorian. The Altus tried to give him a winning smile, but knew it probably fell flat. Cullen crossed his arms, arching his brow. 

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to teach me to fight when I already knew,” Dorian started. Cullen just shifted his weight. Dorian cleared his throat. “Well, that is, you see, I…”

All at once Dorian deflated, shoulders hunching as he tried to find something to do with his hands that wasn’t wringing them. There was really nothing he could say here but the truth. For some reason, his skills at deflection had fled him. He couldn’t even come up with a clever quip, much to his chagrin.

“I… wanted to spend more time with you,” he said, studying the ground. Stone blocks. Fascinating, really. “Terribly selfish of me, I know, when you already indulge me with our chess games-”

“If I’m not wrong,” Cullen said, moving into the Altus’s space and tilting Dorian’s head up by cupping his chin. His expression was soft, cautious, and not a little bit hopeful. “I was the one who asked you to a game first.”

“I suppose you have me there,” Dorian said, smiling wanly. Really, it was all terribly unfair. He was the one who was supposed to make the Commander blush, not the other way around. Smiling warmly, Cullen leaned in to kiss him again. 

It was soft and warm, a caress of lips with just enough pressure to draw Dorian away from his thoughts. Cullen pulled back, still smiling. And then it turned into something a little wicked. 

“Of course, there is something that needs addressed,” he said. Dorian arched a brow, and Cullen walked away, retrieving both quarterstaves and bringing them over. He held one out to Dorian, smirking. “If you really can kick my ass with the quarterstaff or not.”

Dorian laughed, surprised himself with how genuine it was, and needed a minute to compose himself before accepting the staff. Cullen didn’t look like he minded the wait, as he stepped away to ready himself. 

If, later, they somehow both ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs, Dorian would never admit that he’d cheated to make it that way. 

If Cullen knew, he never seemed to mind.


End file.
